The Wrong End of the Stick
by Ethanamide
Summary: John finds an invitation and jumps to the wrong conclusion, leading Molly to get the wrong end of the stick. A Sherlolly one-shot.


John arrived at Baker Street to find a somewhat irritable Sherlock throwing knives at the coffee table, the letter opener was wedged into the table securing a piece of card that seemed to serve as his target. He rolled his eyes and coughed loudly to get his friend's attention, hoping that his unscheduled arrival wouldn't result in a trip to A&E. As it transpired, they would be heading to the hospital, but thankfully to the morgue. Whilst Sherlock was grabbing something from his room, John took a quick look at the offense piece of stationary. To his surprise it appeared to be an invitation to a family event, inclusive of a plus one, but before he could get a good look at the occasion and the host, Sherlock reappeared and swept out of the flat. John followed behind and into a cab, where he made the mistake of asking about the invite. Sherlock ranted the entire cab journey to Bart's about how Mycroft never had to take a plus one to any event, and how his mother was just punishing him for Christmas. John could hardly get a word in edgeways until they reached the basement of Bart's, when Sherlock decreed he should just fake it and be done with it.

"You want to pretend to be married in front of your whole family?" John all but shouted, bewildered by how poorly thought through that comment was.

"Why not? It'll keep away those ghastly second cousins of mine who still think it's preferable to marry within the family." Sherlock replied, shuddering for good measure.

"Who are you going to get to go to every birthday, Christmas, family function with you for the next fifty years?" John asked, still baffled by the concept. He wondered who on Earth might go through with a ridiculous hair-brained scheme like this, and then realised where they were going. "NO! You are not to ask Molly!" He declared as they approached the door to the morgue, unaware that their conversation was so loud Molly had overheard a good proportion of it.

"Ask Molly what?" She enquired with a smile of feigned ignorance, hoping it was as bizarre as it sounded. She was hoping it was help with a case, or standing in for John again, she'd thoroughly enjoyed that.

"Nothing. He's not going to ask you anything." John replied resolutely, if he could nip this preposterous idea in the bud before it could make its way out of Sherlock's mouth he would. Unfortunately for them all, Molly was too curious about what she'd heard in the corridor to take this answer.

"Why are you not going to ask me anything?" Molly asked Sherlock, a playfulness in her tone, it couldn't be any weirder than having to kill him.

"Undoubtedly because John thinks asking you to be my fake wife for a family function, and thereafter as often is needed to keep up the ruse, is ridiculous, unfair and frankly absurd." Sherlock answered in a neutral tone, not indicating whether he agreed or disagreed with John's summation of his fly away comment in the hall. As a rule, when Sherlock commented on John's thoughts in a non-committal way, the people around him took that as a tactful disagreement, and in this case, Molly was not inclined to think otherwise. She blinked twice as she processed the information, folded her arms, and raised her eyebrows looking every bit unimpressed.

"You honestly thought that through?" Molly asked, it was more rhetorical than an actual question, although John muttered 'Apparently' under his breath, causing Sherlock to roll his eyes. She continued with her rhetorical questioning, getting gradually louder and angrier with every word. "You really thought that asking me to pretend to be married to you in front of your parents, and MYCROFT was a good idea?"

"Well-" Sherlock tried to answer, he never liked to be called out as stupid, especially not in a sentence that involved his brother. Molly, however, was on a roll.

"No interrupting! What were you going to do when one of your relatives sold us to the papers? What were you going to do when your brother inevitably told your parents it was all a ruse?!"

"Ah" Was all Sherlock could manage in his defence before, again, Molly stopped him.

"I'm not finished!" She warned, taking a step towards him, forcing him to take a step back until he was backed against the wall of the morgue, but never stopping in her questioning:"Did you even consider what effect this would have on me? I wouldn't be able to date as our 'relationship' would be in the papers, it wouldn't just be for occasions it wouldn't be able to be temporary! You'd condemn me to a life of enforced mock spinsterhood just to stop your cousins from bothering you?! Did you think how upset your parents would be after your brother took exceptional pleasure in revealing that there was no record of such wedding ever taking place?! DID YOU?" She breathed heavily after her outburst and continued in a quiet, deadly tone. "So help me if you try to smart Alec your way out of this Sherlock Holmes, you'll find yourself at the wrong end of my scalpel."

The room was deadly silent for a minute before Sherlock cleared his throat,

"In my defence, I was going to go for a 'whirlwind romance' that could end abruptly or with actual marriage after 6 months." He glared at John, who was now extremely confused. Molly, however, decided to call his bluff.

"We'll be visiting my mother in the next fortnight then?" She assumed, as to the best of her knowledge, her mum had never met Sherlock.

"I've already spoken to her." Sherlock replied, a smug grin forming on his face.

"So if I rang her now, she'd be able to confirm everything you've just said?" Molly needed external confirmation, and to know why if she'd been communicating with Sherlock, her mother hadn't told her so. Sherlock simply nodded, and as a result Molly dialled her mother on her mobile, curious as to what she was about to find out. "Hi mum, yes Sherlock is here, no he hasn't asked me anything, why? Should he have? He saw you Wednesday? No I didn't get any biscuits, I suspect he ate them all on the way back. What do you mean you send them every other week?! Ok mum, I'll see you soon, love you too, bye. She folded her arms and looked up at Sherlock,"Would you kindly like to explain why you visit my mother on alternate Sundays and how I've never received a crumb of the biscuits she sends back with you for me? As I 'always work Sundays'." Whatever she had been expecting, that wasn't it. She looked pointedly at Sherlock, whose reply was an affronted 'You do work on Sundays.' Molly rolled her eyes, she wouldn't work on Sundays if she knew her mum's biscuits were on the line!

"How often have you been visiting?" She asked, concerned for her mum's sanity. Sherlock has the decency to look a little sheepish before he muttered

"Since Reichenbach…"

By this point, John's jaw was at risk of dislocating for the amount of time it had been hanging open. Molly frowned, searching her memory for a time around then when he could possibly have come across her mum. He'd stayed for one night after he'd been declared dead, mostly because he refused to stay with his brother or in a safe house, he must have stayed a second night without her knowing, after her mum had come down to visit. She always let herself in while Molly was at work.

"She may have walked in on me asleep. In your bed." Sherlock continued, following her thought pattern. Molly immediately knew what he'd told her mother, and wasn't impressed.

"Oh good. If this is just keeping up appearances for my mother I will visit yours and tell her what you've done." She threatened, banking on him not lying to his own mother too.

"That won't be necessary, she's quite aware," Sherlock said with an edge of irritation, as if it wasn't by choice his mother knew. Molly sighed, there was only one thing left to verify his story about a genuine proposal: a ring.

"Show me the ring." She demanded, tired of withheld information. When Sherlock looked confused by her question, she elaborated, making sure to take the opportunity to patronise him. "The ring you were going to propose with."

"About that, there's a slight issue." Sherlock said, ignoring her tone of voice, and shoving his hands in his coat pockets. Naturally, his evasiveness drove Molly to yet another wrong conclusion.

"You were never intending to propose?" She assumed, too angry to think about disappointment or tears.

"My grandmother won't give it to me!" He corrected, pausing for a moment before adding "She doesn't believe you're real."

Molly and John exchanged confused looks across the room, his family was certainly eccentric, and after the shenanigans with Janine, it was difficult to believe there wasn't some underlying case or cause.

"Your grandmother doesn't believe Molly is real?" John was the first to speak after the shocked silence that followed Sherlock's strange revelation.

"Nope. She wasn't sure you existed until mummy showed her pictures from Christmas." Sherlock made sure to pop the 'p' in nope obnoxiously to try and mask his discomfort. John and Molly weren't buying it though, how could she not believe John was real? They'd been in the news, and on the tele? "She thought I'd built an android" Sherlock explained quietly, fidgeting slightly.

"Your Granny thought I was a robot?" John asked, wondering which alternate reality he'd been dropped into. Molly, on the other hand, was more preoccupied with the detective's unusual fiddling.

"Sherlock, what's in your left hand?" She asked quietly, ignoring John. Sherlock shifted uncomfortably, and pulled out a small shiny object.

"Mummy gave it to me, Granny doesn't know I have it." He said by way of an explanation, before continuing in a scarily accurate impersonation of his mother "If she does half as much for you as you say she does, frankly she deserves a medal, and this is the least you could give to her. Heavens knows your brother will never have need for it."

"That is very sweet of her, but I don't need you 'to do right by me' Sherlock. I need you to want to do this. To want me." Molly smiled up at him sadly, her voice cracking before tailing looked down at the floor, and tried hard not to cry. Sherlock placed a hand under her chin and tilted her face up to look at him)

"Have you ever known me do something I didn't want to do? I'll even buy milk." He smiled down at her, using his thumb to wipe a stray tear from her cheek.

"-and cat food?" Molly smiled back, causing Sherlock to roll his eyes, and nod, if it made her happy, he would gladly do so.


End file.
